


Get Your Cloak Hemmed!

by staringatstars



Series: Ghost Stories [5]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Attempt at Humor, Gen, Hunter Jesse McCree, Mentioned Tekhartha Zenyatta, Vampire Genji Shimada, Vampire Hanzo Shimada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 11:28:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16407638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/staringatstars/pseuds/staringatstars
Summary: After an attempt to end Genji's nocturnal activities leads to Hanzo joining him, he attempts to scare McCree by playing up the part of villain. Except he's not very good at it, as Genji is quick to remind him.





	Get Your Cloak Hemmed!

Jesse dove, barely avoiding a burning branch that could have easily crushed his skull. 

“It would seem your luck has saved you yet again, Hunter!” And as though waiting for exactly such an opening, the vampire he’d been searching for stepped forth from out the flames, its scarlet cloak gleaming in the orange cast by the fire that swathed it. Jesse had known it would be strong - the man it had once been was one of the fiercest hunters he’d ever encountered - but this was getting ridiculous. 

It snarled at him with Hanzo’s features, though Hanzo had never allowed himself to look so unhinged. The sight of it bastardizing everything his partner had been aggravated the ache that always seemed to burrow within Jesse’s chest at the sight of it. Those pearly whites the vampire flashed only emphasized how little of the former hunter’s humanity was left. 

Maybe he really was a lost cause. 

The thought must have shown on his face, because the exaggerated smugness emanating from the vampire briefly faltered. It was only for a short time, short enough that Jesse, his eyes stinging from the smoke, cheeks burning from the heat, missed it entirely. But when he was finished scrubbing the tears from his vision, the flames had been quelled, and the vampire, with a dramatic flourish and an audible scoff, vanished into the shadows of the night, leaving the hunter to bask in the enormity of his failure. 

“First Reyes,” McCree muttered, turning on his back to speak to the stars, “and now you.” Biting down a vulnerable sound, he crossed his arms over his eyes, the taste of copper on his tongue. “What am I supposed to do?”

 

Once out of sight, Hanzo took to spitting and hacking out the smoke he’d accidentally inhaled while standing in the flames, before tripping on the hem of his cloak. He’d stolen it while meandering through the local town, thinking such garments would suit him well as he played the part of villain. And it did, so long as didn’t have to perform any unnecessary tasks, such as walking, jumping, or running for his life. Unlife. 

“He’s going to find out eventually, Hanzo.” Hanzo spun around, a snarl parting his pale lips, to find Genji lounging on a log, sprawled out like an overgrown cat. A tongue flicked over his fangs, their points gleaming in the moonlight. 

Quickening his pace as much as he could without falling flat on his face, Hanzo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Go away, Genji.”

Naturally, Genji did no such thing. Instead, he glided effortlessly beside Hanzo, the soles of his feet barely touching the earth. “Actually, at the rate you’re going with this charade,” his mouth, crimson thanks to a recent feeding, curled into a teasing grin, “it’d probably be better for his health if you did.” He flipped, sailing through the air on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. “You’re going to give the poor guy a hernia.”

“He is human. I am,” Hanzo waved dismissively, “…not. There is only one way such a match could end.”

Genji sighed as though they were kids again and Hanzo was stubbornly refusing to go to a party, not a vampire and the hunter he’d cursed to an eternity of bloodlust and running. “I did not save your life so you could spend the rest of your life miserable, brother.”

Fangs bared, his crimson sclera glowing, Hanzo snapped, “You did not _save_ my life at all!” 

It was all for show, however, as they were both aware. A sired vampire could never harm his maker, which was likely why Genji had turned him in the first place. Either that, or the thought of spending millenia alone was as unbearable to him as it was to Hanzo. He was afraid to ask, as the answer would reveal how much of his little brother truly remained in the vampire that bore his likeness. 

Did Genji truly still care for him? Or did he simply _remember_ a time when he had? 

How much could Hanzo trust the flash of hurt that crossed his brother’s face at his harsh words, the pain in his averted gaze? “Someday, brother,” Genji said softly, “I hope you will come to see that being like me isn’t so bad.” 

Hanzo frowned. “Will that be the day I drink from humans, as you do?” 

Anger and bitterness chased away the pain as Genji rose to loom above him, “Killing never bothered you before, Hanzo. I fail to see why it should now.” And to that, Hanzo said nothing. It was difficult enough to maintain his sense of self while Genji was calm, but when his emotions got riled up, the urge to submit, to apologize and _obey_ , became nearly overwhelming. This was yet another aspect of their altered dynamic, though once again, there was a question there that Hanzo could never bring himself to ask. 

Mainly, was Genji aware of the influence he held over him now? If he was, he gave no sign of it. 

Twisting his mouth into a bitter grin, Genji settled onto the forest floor, the leaves crunching beneath his feet as he snarled, “Get your cape hemmed before I eat it. It was funny the first couple times but now it’s just sad.” Then he stalked off into the night, melding with the shadows, joining the bats and the wolves to hunt as another creature of the dark. 

Whatever blood he managed to acquire that night, Hanzo ardently hoped he choked on it.

 

“What are you doing, Hanzo?” 

Though it was hard to see his face with a too-large cloak draped around his head thanks to the rope currently suspending him from a tree, Hanzo thought Genji sounded unbearably smug. He batted away the cloak with frustration, only to give up shortly afterwards, grumbling in response to Genji’s audible glee, “Wishing I’d staked you.”

“Are you stuck in a tree, Hanzo?” Why was it taking the sun so long to rise? Being turned to dust had to be better than this. “Do you need me to get you down, Hanzo?” 

After glaring daggers for what he deemed a sufficient amount of time, Hanzo reluctantly admitted, “It would seem that Jesse’s taken to setting up traps in the forest.” Predictably, Genji cackled at his misfortune. This aspect of him, at least, had not changed. “You see that branch over there?”

Hanzo gestured with his head to a thick bough that had fallen after his capture, its snapped base possessing a sharpened edge to it. Confused, Genji picked it up, ”Good. Now stick it in my chest.” 

Rolling his eyes, Genji tossed the branch over his shoulder. ”I have a better idea.” He circled the tree, looking for the wooden peg the rope trap was tied to, and upon finding it, kicked it over without ceremony. With the rope suddenly slack, Hanzo came crashing to the ground, landing in a heap of limbs and humiliation.

Not even bothering to pretend he wasn’t amused by this, Genji helped untangle him and pulled him to his feet, even patting down the cloak to get some of the dirt stains off its fabric, though it did little good in the end. The grass stains and mud needed more than that, which would mean another risky trip to town if Hanzo intended to have it cleaned. 

“Why don’t you come to my place?” Genji asked suddenly. “I’ve got a friend who’s been helping me a lot lately and he knows how to sew. He could probably fix your cloak for you. And I’ve got a washer if it’s not dry-clean only or…” He trailed off, shifting nervously under Hanzo’s scrutinizing gaze. Swallowing, Genji tried, “It’s been… a long time since I’ve fed on people. I know you don’t want to be like me. I’m trying to be better.” 

Hanzo’s expression softened a fraction. “I can see that.” He shrugged off the cloak, tucking the bundle easily under his arm. Without it, he seemed more comfortable, more relaxed. And as they began to make their way towards town, Genji released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

Someday, they’d have to figure out what they were going to do about their friends, decide whether to keep running or try to rebuild some of what had been lost. They’d have to talk about how the clan had sacrificed Genji to the vampire den, how Hanzo had dedicated his life afterwards to trying to free him from his torment, only to join him in it.

But this wasn’t the day for that. Today, Genji was going to introduce his brother to the human monk that had managed to revitalize the buried humanity in him. They weren’t going to talk about heartbroken hunters, or how they’d tried and failed to save each other. 

There was a maxim that said time could heal all wounds. And for all that his heart was dry and dusty, Genji truly hoped it were true. 

After all, if there was anything they had an endless amount of now, it was time.


End file.
